


Spiral

by blackkat



Series: let life lightly dance on the edges of time [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto)-centric, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Multi, OT3, Time Travel, dimension hopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6042148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke are dimension-hopping superheroes. Kind of. More or less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiral

**Author's Note:**

> AKA that one SasuNaruSaku dimension-traveling superheroes fic that my brother wanted for his birthday, and which I can do nothing but provide. It is complete, despite the brevity, so no demands for a continuation, please. :)
> 
> (Also, my 200th story on AO3! I don’t know whether to cry about my life choices or bask in the glow of accomplishment.)

Kakashi notices them too late—moments after _Obito_ , who is hurt and bleeding and _going to die_ , and there's nothing he, they, can do about it. Not with Iwa nin around them, advancing, hands ready to shape the seals that will take away even the slim, slight chance of surviving that Obito currently possesses.

But there are too many of them, seen too late, and Kakashi is already wavering, transplant procedure and new Sharingan and immediate fight having stolen all but the very, very last of his reserves. And Rin, for all her medical genius, for all her training with Minato-sensei, is not a fighter. Strong against genjutsu, with near-perfect chakra control, but she’s more of a spy than a soldier, and Kakashi has never despaired of the difference more than he does now.

Too many opponents to even _begin_ to fight, suicidal odds, but Kakashi reaches for a kunai anyway, because he has two eyes right now and Obito is down there _crushed_ and _bleeding out_ , and Kakashi will never, ever again deny that they are friends, that Obito is _his friend_ , just so long as they can make it through this.

The Iwa nin in the very front raises his hands, a merciless hardness in his eyes, and forms the first of what will doubtless be a string of hand-signs.

And then he drops, a puppet with its strings suddenly and ruthlessly cut. Collapses to the ground in a spreading pool of his own blood, and there's a shuriken embedded in the side of his neck.

Kakashi stares. The other Iwa nin do, too.

There's a rustle, a blur, and suddenly three figures are standing in front of Kakashi and Rin, shinobi dressed in black with bone-white armor and equally white masks. Kakashi starts, feels Rin do the same, and remembers Obito's request with a pang as he steps in front of her. Nowhere to run, no way to fight, but—

“I thought we were going for subtle?” one of the new arrivals says, his tone one of bright amusement. He’s the shorter of the two men, with a high, spiky blond ponytail that brushes past his shoulders, a mask painted with sharp streaks of silver, and a staff strapped horizontally across his back. Matte black metal, with seven rings at the top—not just any staff, but a shakujo, then.

The woman, with a grey-splashed mask and startlingly pink hair held back by a clip shaped like a spray of leaves, sniffs sharply and tilts her chin up. “ _I_ was going for _efficiency_. He was going to start—”

“Is now _really_ the time to be bickering like moronic siblings?” the second man demands, turning his blue-splattered mask towards his companions. Spiky black hair strikes a familiar chord in Kakashi's memory, and he stiffens, just barely holding himself back from leaping back down to Obito. But he has to protect Rin, no matter how much he wants to go to the other boy who’s probably _died_ while they're standing around up here, and—

“Maa, maa,” the blond says, flipping a hand in dismissal. Then, as though some invisible lever has been pulled, he draws himself up straight, an air of command and competence settling around him like a cloak. “Rain, take them out. No Doton jutsus—don’t risk it. Cloud, let’s hurry.”

“Hn. Easy,” the dark-haired man, Rain, mutters, and blurs into motion too fast to follow. But Kakashi doesn’t even try, though in other circumstances he’d love to watch a skilled shinobi in action. Instead, his eyes are firmly on the other two strangers as they turn and bound up beside him and Rin. Cloud pauses to pass a critical eye over both teammates, even as the blond leaps back down into the cave and settles next to Obito.

Kakashi wastes no time grabbing for his kunai and lunging.

Before he can even touch down, though, a ridiculously strong hand grabs the back of his shirt and tosses him—gently—to the side, and Cloud drops down next to her partner. “Don’t be an idiot,” she tells Kakashi sharply as he pulls himself to his feet. She turns away from him without care, and with astonishing strength heaves the main boulder crushing Obito off to the side. “If we wanted you dead, we would have sat back and let Iwa do our work for us. We can help him.”

“Can you?” the blond asks, not even glancing at Kakashi, or Rin when she scrambles down beside him.

Cloud hums softly under her breath, reaching out and resting a gentle hand against Obito's cheek. It’s a blessing he’s unconscious, probably, but Kakashi can't bring himself to feel anything but shaken and horrified to see his hyperactive teammate so still. “Yes,” she answers, pulling a scroll from her belt, biting her thumb, and unsealing it with a drop of blood. “As long as you're willing to play battery. It’s going to take a while, though. A filthy crater in enemy territory is hardly the best place to play around with DNA splicing.”

“The furball’s volunteered his time already,” the blond says with a soft snort. “Do it.”

The woman starts pulling unfamiliar and definitely not standard medical equipment out of the scroll, even as the blond sets a hand on her shoulder. In a moment soft green light fills the ruined cave, and Cloud reaches out, wraps her fingers around Obito's, and closes her eyes. Another faint spark of light comes from the man, red and blue chakra flickering over his hand and sinking into her skin, but neither of them moves.

Kakashi looks at Rin, the expert on all things medical, but she’s watching with wide, entranced eyes and isn't likely to be of any help at the moment.

A soft thump draws his attention away, and Kakashi glances over to see Rain rising from a crouch, sliding a katana into its sheath across his back. It’s only then that Kakashi finally manages to make out the hitai-ate tied around his bicep, and the symbol there.

 _Shinobi_ , it says, and absolutely nothing else.

Rain looks back at him, eyes dark through the mask, and seems to read the tenseness in Kakashi's frame. He drops his hand from his sword and half-turns away, casually dismissing both teenagers. “Your friend will be fine,” he says, watching his teammates with narrowed eyes. “Cloud is the best, and Wind can give her all the chakra she needs.”

It’s brusquely spoken, but clearly not unkindly meant, and Kakashi allows himself to relax slightly. As Cloud said, if these three had wanted them dead, there was no need to even get involved. Since the other two are even now healing Obito, he’s willing to…have some faith. Just this once.

“Who _are_ you?” he demands nevertheless, because faith is very different from blind stupidity.

“Unaffiliated shinobi,” Rain says flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. But his eyes aren’t leaving his team, and for all that they're as dark and sharp as obsidian, there's also something soft in them. Not weak-soft, not in the least, but the kind of soft Kakashi usually associates with home and a father who laughed with him and ruffled his hair and was the pride of the village. It’s not the kind of thing he’s used to seeing on a battlefield, or from a man splattered with blood.

“DNA splicing,” Rin says suddenly, glancing over at Rain. Her expression is amazed and a little bit awed. “That means she’s going to—?”

The dark-haired man snorts. “He’s been crushed,” he points out unflinchingly. “Pull that kid out of here right now, take him back to your village, and he’ll never walk again, much less have any use as a shinobi. Cloud has a sample of a cell that self-replicates and heals damage. She’ll introduce that to his body and see if it helps.”

Kakashi stiffens, hands closing into fists, because it should damn well be _him_ under that boulder. _He_ should be the one dying right now, _would_ be if it weren’t for Obito's sudden, ridiculous bout of selflessness and _stupidity_.

For a long moment there's absolutely no sound in the ruined cave, no movement except for the soft play of multicolored lights over the strewn boulders. Then Rain sighs softly, leaning back against the wall. “Get comfortable,” he suggests. “We’ll be here for a while.”

Rin and Kakashi look at each other, and then away, back at the third member of their team and the two strangers doing all they can to save him.

It could be a trap. It could be _anything._

Still, Kakashi drops to the ground and Rin curls into his side, and they don’t look away.

They _can't._

 

 

Sometime in the predawn, just as the stars are starting to fade away, Sasuke leaves the two sleeping children and crosses to his teammates’ sides. Sakura's chakra is sliding back to normal levels, no longer the nova-bright glare it has been for the past several hours to his Sharingan eyes. As he crouches down between her and Naruto, she glances up, and he can all but see the smile she gives him even with her mask in the way.

“It took,” she says, settling back on her heels. After a quick glance at Kakashi and Rin, who are still unconscious, she pushes her mask up and wipes her face with the back of her wrist. Her green eyes are tired, but bright with victory, and she laughs. “It took!”

“Obviously it would,” Sasuke points out, but he can't resist the urge to push up his own mask, catch her chin in his fingers, and lean in to give her a kiss. He means for it to be light and quick, but before he can pull away her hand slides into his hair, twisting gently, and she leans into him, kissing back with intent.

“Jerk,” she mutters as they separate, but she’s smiling, and looks almost as breathless as Sasuke feels. “Even Tsunade wouldn’t have managed that, thank you. Whatever Madara did the first time around worked, but we had no idea if _this_ would.”

Naruto thumps onto his butt in the dirt, mask in his lap and grin wide. “Of course it would,” he protests. “You're a genius, Sakura. Everybody knows that.”

Sakura looks faintly mollified, but reaches out to rap her knuckles against blond hair nonetheless. “You okay?” she asks, scanning him carefully for any signs of pain. “That took more chakra than I thought it would.”

“I'm fine.” Naruto wavers her off with a chuckle. “But we’re not going to jumping across any more dimensions for a couple of days. Kurama's asleep, too.”

Sharing a concerned glance with Sakura, Sasuke lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “That’s fine. We’ve saved this world already, now that Zetsu’s dead. I think we earned a break.”

Naruto heaves an exaggerated sigh of relief and lets himself fall back to sprawl out on the rock. “Thank fuck. I'm _tired_.”

Despite the melodrama Naruto seems to have adopted from his second teacher, in this at least it’s clear he’s not overstating things. His chakra is still a blaze just barely held inside his skin, but the lines around his eyes are more pronounced than ever, and his tan skin has gone about three shades paler. Sasuke looms over him, assessing, and then just because he can leans in to kiss Naruto as well. Naruto smiles against his mouth, on the verge of breaking the kiss, and Sasuke makes an annoyed sound at him. It earns him a short laugh, soft and fond, and then Naruto opens his mouth and kisses him seriously, warm and soft.

It takes more effort than it really should to pull away, given where they are at the moment, but Sasuke finally forces himself to, pressing one last, glancing kiss to Naruto's forehead as he goes. Sakura is watching them with a fond smile, and when Sasuke glances up at her she huffs out a laugh, ducking down to give Naruto a kiss of her own. It lingers, gentle and light, before she settles back on her knees and says, “So, if we’re not immediately heading on to the next dimension in need of saving, what do we do now? Minato should be showing up to help destroy the bridge any minute now.”

Naruto hums thoughtfully, but he’s wearing that particular fox-grin that means world-shaking mischief is brewing. “What about…an Uchiha born outside the clan, a clanless medic, and an unknown Namikaze?” he suggests. “That could work. They’d let us through Konoha's gates, at least.”

“Excuse you?” Sakura protests, tone deeply offended. “Why am I the clanless one?”

“I don’t think we can quite pass you off as an Uchiha,” Sasuke tells her dryly. “Though I'm game to try if you are.”

Pointedly, Sakura jabs a finger at the seal on her forehead. “Uzumaki fuinjutsu,” she says very slowly and clearly.

Naruto laughs. “Hey, hey,” he says cheerfully to Sasuke. “Uzumaki have red hair, and the Hatake have white. Put those colors together and you get?”

“Punched,” is Sakura's verdict, and she crosses her arms, glaring at Naruto, who’s grinning unrepentantly, and then at Sasuke, who’s entirely failing to hide his amusement. In the face of their humor, she rolls her eyes and sighs. “Fine, I'll be an Uzumaki. I am _not_ volunteering to be related to our pint-sized sensei, thank you. He’s an absolute brat at this age.”

“And yet weirdly cute,” Naruto points out, and waves his hands at both of them in silent plea. “I think my dad should be getting close. Are we hitting Konoha, then?”

Sasuke smiles, just a little, and twines their fingers together even as Sakura does the same on Naruto's other side. “Someone should make you the god of pointless chaos,” he says, and rises to his feet, pulling Naruto with him. “Konoha's not going to know what’s hit it.”

“We should try that in the next dimension,” Sakura suggests, laughing. “What do you think we should aim for next time? Saving Izuna? Keeping Tobirama alive longer?”

“What about the other direction?” Sasuke suggests. “We could have kids somewhere in one of the timelines.”

Naruto pauses, face screwing up. “…That’s a creepy thought,” he decides at length. “How about we save that for later, and look for Team Sarutobi instead? We can save Orochimaru from going nuts.”

“Orochimaru is always nuts,” Sasuke points out. He’s fairly fond of the man who was originally his mentor, but some things just can't be denied. “Even in that one universe.”

Sakura's expression is far too innocent to hide anything but sheer devilry. “You mean the one where he had that massive crush on Kakashi's dad? I don’t know, I thought that was kind of cute. And their dimension wasn’t all that bad. We barely had to do anything to fix it.”

Both men give her disbelieving looks. “Cute?” Naruto echoes. “He wanted to be Kakashi's _mom_.”

“He was _pining_ ,” Sasuke agrees, equally horrified. “ _Orochimaru_.”

With another roll of her eyes, Sakura thumps them both on the head, though lightly. “You're both unromantic idiots,” she huffs. “Fine. Let’s find a universe where Jiraiya expresses his homoerotic obsession for his male teammate in a saner way than chasing him around the entirety of the Elemental Countries for decades on end.”

“When you put it like that…” Naruto mutters, making a face, and Sasuke nods his disturbed agreement.

Before Sakura can say anything more, there's a flash of yellow light from up above the shattered cave, and a familiar presence fills the clearing. In an instant, three masks come down, and Naruto grabs Obito's staff off the ground. He doesn’t even have to glance at his teammates before he leaps for higher ground, because he knows as simply as breathing that they're just one step behind.

Sasuke smiles to himself, just faintly, as Naruto walks forward to meet his father. There are far worse ways to spend a lifetime, he thinks, and as one, he and Sakura move to flank their partner.

**Author's Note:**

> For Peter, my twin. Even after 27 years, you manage to be everything good and bright in my life, and I will never regret _anything_ we do. (At least not until the tequila wears off, I promise.) This is all your fault, you fantastic idiot, and I adore you  (even if I still haven’t quite managed to figure out how you got three pairs of your boxers in my closet without me noticing. Or why, though I'm probably better off not thinking about that part too hard. Yes, I found those. Explanation please???) Have all my love, because you’ve earned it time and time again.


End file.
